


Burn the Ships

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Fandom Birthday Playlist [30]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Enchanted Forest (Once Upon a Time), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lieutenant Killian Jones/Princess Emma Swan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 13:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: Emma Swan stood shivering on the beach, her entire body numb as she stared out at the smoldering remains of the Jewel of the Realm. She pressed her eyes shut and felt the sting from her constant crying. Her lieutenant had promised her he would always survive, always come home to her. Yet coming home sometimes isn't enough.





	Burn the Ships

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bethacaciakay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethacaciakay/gifts).

> Based on the song by For King & Country - and ya'll, the music video features The Lady Washington, which was used as The Jolly Roger on the show! The entire video is like a Brothers Jones adventure - go check it out!

_ Don't let it arrest you _

_ This fear is fear of fallin' again _

_ And if you need a refuge _

_ I will be right here until the end _

The earth shook with the canon bombardment, and the sky flared with the fire of explosions. Emma huddled in the corner of the room, Henry clinging to her chest, tremors rippling through his small frame every time the castle shook. Emma rocked him, rubbed his hair, whispered assurances into his ear. 

The door to their chambers burst open, and Emma jerked at the sound. Had King George’s men come ashore? Were they already storming the castle? She deflated when she saw her mother standing there, the light of her lone candle flickering over her features. 

“Emma, come quickly.”

The urgency in Queen Snow’s voice brokered no argument, and Emma rose, adjusting her four year old son in her arms. They hurried down the corridors of the castle, Henry whimpering with each canon blast that shook the walls. Down, down, they raced to the armory where all the residents of the castle, from the cook to visiting dignitaries, huddled in fear. 

Only now, as the Queen barred the heavy door, did Emma notice the bow and quiver of arrows slung over her mother’s back. Snow reached up to one of the high shelves for her husband’s sword and scabbard. Wordlessly, she strapped it around her daughter’s waist. Emma’s gaze latched onto her mother’s with barely concealed terror. 

“He’ll come home, won’t he?” 

Snow tried for a smile, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes, and she didn’t answer her daughter’s question.

“He promised,” Emma said with a tremor in her voice. 

All her mother could do was embrace her, Henry sandwiched between them. 

************************************************************

As the sun rose over Misthaven, King David’s company of knights could clearly see that their defenses were for naught. The Royal Navy had indeed been victorious, and King George’s ships had turned and fled.

Yet victory did not come without loss.

The people of Misthaven swarmed the docks and the rocky shores, some gaping at the fires and the debris, others tending to the wounded, still others fishing bodies from the sea. Mothers, sisters, lovers - their wails of grief and cries of joy filled the air. Emma shoved past them, shouting in irritation that the princess needed to get through. When she reached the very edge of the pier, where the Jewel of the Realm always swayed proudly in the water, the crowd seemed to part like the Red Sea of old, every face downcast and filled with pity. Emma knew before she even saw the derelict schooner in the distance, before she even smelled the smoke. She saw it in the eyes of everyone around her. 

The Jewel was lost. 

She fell to her knees with a loud cry. When she had found herself a widow at eighteen with a baby on the way, she had been numb and tears had alluded her. Yet now, her heart seemed to make up for lost time. She swayed with the weight of her grief, sobs wracking her body, pain ripping through her and tearing her to shreds. Her parents were there almost immediately, her mother calling her baby, her father cupping the back of her head with tenderness, both of them rocking her the way she had rocked Henry during the long, horrible night. 

“Killian! Killian, no!” 

The crowds upon the shores of Misthaven fell silent as their princess grieved.

_ Burn the ships, cut the ties _

_ Send a flare into the night _

_ Say a prayer, turn the tide _

_ Dry your tears and wave goodbye _

Liam Jones refused to succumb to the waves. Not because he feared drowning, not because he didn’t want to die, but because he had to save his little brother. He had promised their mother long ago that he would take care of Killian, and so far, he had kept it. He wasn’t about to break that promise now. 

“Come on, little brother, help me out here,” he muttered as he struggled to keep Killian’s head above the water. He longed to hear him mutter  _ it’s younger brother _ .

Liam almost wept when he felt the pebbly soil beneath his feet. He dragged himself up out of the waves on his knees with Killian slung over his shoulder. The water around them was stained red with blood. It could have belonged to either one of them, but he feared it was mostly his brother’s. He tried to lay Killian down gently upon the sand, but his head bounced anyway. Liam collapsed next to him, rolling over on his back, trying to catch his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut to gather his strength, then turned to look over his brother’s wounds.

“Oh Killy,” he whispered, swallowing back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. The end of Killian’s left arm was nothing but mangled, bloody flesh. The right side of his face was so matted with blood, Liam wasn’t sure what injuries lay beneath, except where the bone showed through high on his cheek. Yet his chest still rose and fell the slightest bit, so he  _ was  _ alive. Liam hurriedly shed his linen shirt, ripping it into strips for bandages. A sound far down the beach caught his attention. 

“Over here!” he yelled, waving his arms over his head once he recognized the colors of the Knights of Misthaven. He turned his attention back to Killian, binding his wounds as best he could. “Stay with me, brother, please. The princess will never forgive me if you don’t.”

_ How did we get here? _

_ All castaway on a lonely shore _

_ I can see in your eyes, dear _

_ It's hard to take for a moment more _

Emma stood shivering on the beach, her entire body numb as she stared out at the smoldering remains of the Jewel of the Realm. She pressed her eyes shut and felt the sting from her constant crying. She thought back to just yesterday evening when the navy had rushed for their ships at the approaching invasion. Emma had stubbornly yanked Killian to her, fists gripping the lapels of his naval coat until her knuckles turned white.

_ “I’m frightened, Killian.” _

_ “Emma -” _

_ “No! Don’t patronize me. Every man I’ve ever been with is dead!” _

_ She choked on the admission, and Killian wrapped his arms around her. _

_ “Graham when I was just a girl,” she muttered against his chest, “Prince Baelfire less than a year after our arranged marriage, and even that fool Walsh who courted me two years ago.” _

_ Killian’s chest rumbled beneath hers as he chuckled. He’d never liked Walsh. Emma hadn’t been overly fond of him either, but when you’re heir to the throne with a two year old son . . .  _

_ “I’m serious!” she cried, shoving him in the chest.  _

_ Killian grinned that crooked smile of his and arched that infuriating brow. “You don’t have to worry about me, love. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving.” _

_ Emma bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes. “You promise? That you’ll come back to me?” _

_ He tucked a strand of hair tenderly behind her ear. “I promise.” _

A breeze blew from the wreckage, bringing a tinge of smoke with it. Emma put her fingers to her lips, remembering the searing kiss goodbye he had given her to seal his promise. A sob sent her doubling over once again at the memory. She blinked through her tears to see a flash of gold bobbing in the water. She bent over and picked it up. She held it in her hand, her thumb rubbing over the engraving of a swan. Tears blinded her vision. It was the compass she had given him the day he made Lieutenant. 

“Emma! Emma, come quick!”

She spun around to see Ruby racing towards her, her cheeks bright red from her run and the wind of the sea. When she reached Emma, she was gasping for air. It was clear her mother’s best friend had run as fast as she could to fetch her. 

“Come, Emma,” she gasped, “it’s Killian.”

“What?”

“He’s alive!”

**************************************************************

“He doesn’t want to see you, Emma.”

“What?” Emma shoved against Liam’s chest, but Captain Jones stood imobile in front of her. Of all the things she had worried over as she’d raced to Killian’s sick chamber, him refusing to see her wasn’t one of them. She was just about to either command in the name of the crown that Liam step aside or pummel him with her fists (or perhaps both) when Killian’s screams rent the air.

“Emma,” Liam said gently, taking her by both shoulders and physically moving her further down the corridor, “it’s bad.”

Killian’s cries of agony reached them again, and Emma’s knees almost buckled at the sound. Liam put his arm around her, and gently led her outside into the cool air. 

“I - I have to see him,” she begged, “what if he doesn’t . . . if he doesn’t . . . “

“I think he’ll make it,” Liam assured her, “but his injuries are . . . life altering.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “You don’t mean . . . will he be able to walk?”

“Yes, of course, it’s not that.”

“Then what!”

Liam ran a hand wearily over his face. “They couldn’t save his left hand, and his face is badly scarred. What you heard just now was the navy doctor cauterizing the wound.”

Emma blanched at the thought. “I still don’t understand. Why can’t I see him?”

“When I told him we’d sent for you, he became extremely agitated. We had to hold him down as he begged me not to let you see him like this. He only calmed down when I promised that very thing.”

Emma wrapped her arms around herself as a chill skittered down her spine. All she longed to do was see him. She had spent the last few hours thinking he was dead, and now he was returned to her. How could she stay away?

“He loves you, Emma,” Liam said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder hesitantly.

“But he isn’t sure of my love.”

“Of course he is.”

Emma’s head snapped up to meet Liam’s gaze. “If that were true, he’d let me see him.”

Liam shook his head. “He’s still in shock, Emma, give him time.”

She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying, then gave a nod of consent. “Tell him that I love him?”

“Of course.”

“Tell him that I will  _ always  _ love him,” Emma clarified.

She was momentarily shocked when the stoic Captain Liam Jones grabbed her in a crushing hug. “Definitely,” he told her as he stepped back, “I have a feeling he’ll need to be reminded.”

********************************************************

“When can I see Killy?”

Emma set aside the book she was reading to Henry, and brushed the hair out of his eyes. “I’m not sure. He was very badly hurt, remember? We need to give him time to get better.”

Henry’s forehead scrunched up as he processed her words. “But I always feel better when I get hugs and kisses from you and grandma and grandpa. Maybe Killy needs some. I give good hugs.”

Emma grinned and pulled Henry close. “You give the best hugs, and I’m sure Killian will take as many as you can give when he’s ready to see us. But remember what I told you?”

“He won’t have two hands anymore,” Henry said in that simple, straightforward way of childhood.

“That’s right, and he has some scars on his face, too, so he’ll look different.”

“But I’m not scared of that, Mama, please can I see him tomorrow?”

Emma sighed and swallowed back her tears. She put on a brave smile for Henry, then kissed him on the forehead. “We’ll see.” What more could she say?

She tucked her son in, giving him one more kiss, before she slipped quietly out of his chamber. She was surprised that she was able to make it all the way to her own before the tears came. She’d just shut the door behind her when she slid to the floor, the sobs wracking her body. 

Once every tear was spent, she rose and crossed the floor to her balcony. She stepped outside, letting the warm summer breeze caress her face. It had been four weeks since the battle that took Killian’s hand. She’d stayed away at Killian’s request, agreeing with Liam that he just needed time. 

She was beginning to think time wasn’t what he needed, however. Emma had to prove just how much she loved her lieutenant.

_ Step into a new day _

_ We can rise up from the dust and walk away _

_ We can dance upon our heartache, yeah _

_ So light a match, leave the past, burn the ships _

_ And step into a new day _

Killian sat in front of the only window in the quarters he shared with Liam. It was situated on the corner of the naval fort and was more like a small cabin built into the stone than the barracks that the rest of the men resided in . At the back of the two bedroom structure was a narrow stairway that led up to a look out turret. The entire domicile was perched upon the edge of the cliffs with a breathtaking view of the sea. 

The sight outside his window today matched his mood : grey and turbulent. Misty rain sliced through the air, pushed along with the gusting wind. They were coming to remove his bandages today, and he would have to face his deformities daily from this moment onward. He was also well enough to stop hiding, Liam had bluntly pointed out. So the entire world would also see his hideousness. 

Including his beautiful, perfect princess. She would try to be kind, he knew that, but he feared the disgust would be evident on her face nevertheless, and it would break him. Henry, being just a tiny lad, would most likely recoil in fear. He wouldn’t blame him. Yet the thought tore his heart in half nevertheless. 

The door creaked open behind him, and Killian hung his head, pressed his unbandaged eye shut, and released a long sigh. “Let’s get this bloody over with,” he muttered.

Whichever orderly the doctor had sent to perform the unpleasant task said nothing, but Killian heard soft footfalls upon the stone floor. Of course they would send the lowest boy in the medical division for such a chore. 

The orderly stopped right in front of Killian’s chair, and the hand that gently came to rest upon his shoulder was incredibly slight. Killian opened his eye, his gaze still trained on the floor. Wait - a skirt? Killian lifted his limited gaze and gaped to see Emma standing before him, a bowl and towels balanced on her hip. His heart pounded in his chest as shame crept through him, yet he couldn’t move. Emma set the supplies gently on the floor, then sank to her knees in front of him. Her lips curled up in a tender smile as tears tracked down her face. 

“I’ve missed you,” she told him. 

“Emma,” he breathed, his muscles trembling, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m exactly who should be here,” she corrected, a flash of that fire he knew so well in her eyes. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek, and he was too weak to resist pressing a kiss to her palm. 

“I’ve missed you too,” he choked out. 

Emma pulled over a stool, and organized her supplies. He was still in a bit of a daze that she was here. He had wanted to ease her into seeing his mutilated self, yet here she was, smiling up at him with a sparkle in her eyes. He hated that it would soon disappear. 

She took his injured arm gently and rested it in her lap. Carefully, using the warm water in the bowl and the towels, she loosened the stiffened bandages before gently unwinding them. 

“Doctor Whale told me exactly what to do,” Emma explained in a calm voice, “and there’s crushed yarrow in the water to cleanse and keep out infection.”

Whale had told him the exact same thing every time he had changed his bandages. Yet Emma’s voice was more soothing, her touch soft, her hair mesmerizing as she bent over him. At least the picture she made was distracting. 

She peeled away the final bandage, and rather than looking at the stump where his hand used to be, he tortured himself by watching her face. Yet instead of tightening in disgust, her features softened and tears wet her eyes. She lifted his arm and pressed a kiss to the puckered flesh. His breath fled his body as she looked up into his eyes, love shining in her gaze as she pressed his stump to her breast. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

“Whatever for?” he rasped in awe.

“For surviving.” 

She released his arm, gently resting it in his lap. Then she drew close, her fingers tracing his jaw, then sifting through his hair. His eyes fell shut as she pressed the wet cloth to the bandages on his face, then gently began to peel them away. In some ways, this reveal was worse. He wasn’t completely sure how bad the damage was to his face. Whale had kept saying only time would tell how bad the scarring would be. Only time would tell if his eye was saved. Killian had never realized how much he had always relied on his pretty face until faced with the reality that he might not have it at his disposal anymore. He was shallow in ways he hadn’t realized, and he began to wonder, had he merely charmed Emma? With that charm stripped away, would anything be left?

His breaths were ragged as the bandage fell away completely. His jaw clenched. 

Emma pulled the final bandage away. Killian’s face was tight, his brow furrowed in what she knew was fear. She could feel him trembling. She cupped his face gently as she perused his face. 

The deepest scar ran along his cheekbone, which wasn’t a surprise. Liam had told her his bone had shown beneath that cut. Another scar ran along his jawline from his ear to his mouth. The final one cut vertically from his hairline and down through his right eyebrow. Emma traced each scar gently with her fingers, a smile breaking her face. They were deep and puckered, and they would always remain, yet they didn’t detract from the handsome face of the man she loved. If anything, they added character and testament to his strength. She leaned closer and pressed light kisses to each scar, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. Killian’s breaths were ragged.

“Emma, please,” he begged, shame lacing his words. 

“Killian,” she sassed back, her lips hovering over his, “open your damn eyes.”

He blinked as he opened them, the pupil of his right constricting at the sudden onslaught of light. Emma’s grin brightened. Whale had told her to look for that very thing to see if his eye was healthy. He hadn’t lost his eyesight, and the blue of his eyes were still bright. Yet even if he had been rendered blind, even if his eyes turned black and fell out, she would still love him. 

“I can-” he squinted, “I can see!”

She grabbed his face then and kissed him with all the pent up relief, passion, and love of the last four weeks. His tears mingled with hers, and his right hand found its way into her hair. His left arm hovered uncertainly at her back. Some things would take time, and that was okay. As long as he knew she wasn’t going anywhere. 

Killian leaned back so he could really look at her. He traced her chin with his fingertips. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Emma pressed her forehead to his. “So are you. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

_ So long to shame, walk through the sorrow _

_ Out of the fire into tomorrow _


End file.
